


We Hereby Establish

by esompthin



Series: Sanders Sides Shorts [9]
Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Logan is on a MISSION, M/M, Multi, Pre-Intrusive Thoughts, Remy is Sleep, So no moustache monster, Tattoos, i dont know the ship names lmao, other characters that are ocs ig idk, remy and missy are in this as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-07-15 07:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16058606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esompthin/pseuds/esompthin
Summary: So the Sides are trying to find each other in order to fuse into Thomas, but it's not as easy as you'd think.





	1. Logic

The flyer was bright green, a neon kind of color that caught the eye. Logic pulled it off the bulletin board and carefully skimmed all the information.

'FIND YOUR OTHER SIDES' The flyer said. It was a systematic survey to seek out matching Sides. It certainly seemed like a good idea. You miss all the shots you don't take and all that. The event had already started, but wouldn't end for another two hours or so. Logic decided it would be best for him to head over immediately. He wasn't busy at the moment, and he might as well observe the situation.

Normally, Logic wouldn't bother much with things like this. But recently, he had gotten a tick, an itch, in the back of his mind that was growing with each passing day. He needed to find his other Sides. It was only biology that drove him to start his search; he was aware of this. The chemicals that were being released in his brain were the driving factor for his sudden need for completion

For you see, Logic "Logan" Side was, well, a Side. His job, his purpose, his fundamental goal, is to find his four other Sides, fuse with them, and create an Established. Becoming an Established is the driving instinct of humans.

Logic had not been ignoring his instincts, per say, but he also hadn't tried too hard to find his other Sides. Now he's trying: he's in his second year in college, his hormones are starting to kick in - not the puberty igniting kind, mind you; those had already taken their course - and he has noticed a constantly growing wish to fuse. He doesn't know what his other Sides may be. They could be anyone, anything: Politeness, Activism, Obsession…

You would think it might be easy to find your other Sides. They tend to look similar to yourself; but that's no guarantee. The only way to entirely know if someone is one of your Sides is if you can fuse with them. You cannot fuse with someone who is not your Side; biology won't allow it. Trial and error, although tedious, tends to be the most effective manner to reaching Establishment.

Logic reaches the Student Center ballroom, where the flyer instructed him to go. He peers in through the doorway, watching as a crowd mingles quietly. They're other Sides, and a few Fusions, who are looking for their other halves. Logic steps forward, methodically analyzing the crowd. Instantly, he notices a problem. Every individual there is wearing sensible clothing: some are holding books or notepads, a few wear glasses, not unlike his own. He's about to step back out of the room, but a voice stops him.

"Greetings." It's a person, a Side. You can always tell who are Sides and who are Established - there's a desperation, a hope, in every Side's eyes that an Established lacks. Fusions are even easier to spot, they are truly freaks of nature. When Sides become Fusions, they experience a metamorphosis that may grant them extra limbs or facial features; the more Sides are added to the Fusion, the more complex they may become. However, when all five Sides finally fuse and create an Established, they lose all of their additons and return to their "normal" human form.

He's digressing; there's a Side before him.

The Side has dark, neat hair that is carefully tucked under a grey trilby. Their eyes are a brown that suggest a deep intelligence, and they have the beginnings of a mustache above their lip. Logic finds himself more than willing to interact with the other Side.

"Salutations." Logic says. The two shake hands, pumping once before letting go. "My name is Logic, or Logan in instances that require an Established name. Did you organize this event?"

"Indeed." The Side nods, "I'm Structure and Planning, with an Established name of Andy. Please don't refer to me as such, however." Logic could understand that; he rarely used 'Logan', unless there was another Logic around. Established names mean nothing for Sides. Structure continues on, "I prepared this event in an attempt to find my other Sides. However, it seems that I had missed a fundamental flaw."

Logic nods, glancing around the room, "Yes, I noticed it as soon as I entered. It appears that everyone attending this gathering are knowledge-driven aspects."

The people surrounding them were, technically speaking, intellectually-inclined. Normally, Logic would be thrilled to have a debate with some of them. But that wasn't his purpose today, and to do so would only be a distraction.

"Correct." Structure agrees, "Only left-brained individuals wish to fill out systematic questionnaires, which makes this operation entirely useless for all involved."

The other Side sighed, disappointed.

"How so?" Logic asked, his gaze once again falling to the people surrounding them. While they seemed to be enjoying themselves, no one has fused.  
Structure gestures between them, "Naturally, if we fulfill the left brain aspect - the logic, the reasoning, the plotting - of our future Established, then none of these individuals could be our Sides. We have already taken that position."

"Statistically, it is possible for an Established individual to have multiple left-brained Sides inside them." Logic argues.

"It would be a small statistic." Structure counters.

Logic can't deny that. "Very well. Then, building off of your hypothesis, then we must search for Sides that would be our counterparts. It would be safe to assume that at least one of our Sides would be the opposite of ourselves: the free spirit to our," He gestures at other side, smiling a little, "structure. What would be the opposite of Structure and Planning? Disorganization. What would be the opposite of Logic? Anarchy."

Structure nodded along, "Then to better your search, you must relocate. I have to stay here, as host, but might I suggest you explore the College of Fine Arts?"

"I was thinking the same thing." Logic nods. After realizing this means he must depart soon, he falters a little, suddenly shy. His smile is genuine as he says, "I enjoyed your companionship, and you're an excellent conversationalist. May I have your number?"

"Oh, fuck yeah." Structure grins, startling Logic a bit. The other Side pulls out their phone and they both exchange numbers with the promise to keep in touch.

As Logic is about the step away, he shakes the other Side's hand once more and says, "I hope you the best of statistical probability in finding your Sides."

"And you as well." Structure winks before turning and walking back into the crowd. Logic watches them a moment as they talk to other Sides. He wonders what kind of person they'll be when they're Established.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/)


	2. Mr. Side

The main issue with introducing yourself, is the split-second, fundamental panic that comes with deciding which name you should use. Anxiety Side, for one, hated both his names and refused to introduce himself using either of them. It would probably be a blessing to be fused, since he would be given a new name to introduce himself; one that wasn't embarrassing or, well, bad. He didn't want to be known as Anxiety. The other people in his class, they had good, fine names. Things like Sensitivity or Ambition or Respect. But Anxiety? His name was a fucking mental illness. No one wanted to be known as that.

He was incredibly unlucky by having an Established name that was equally horrid - Virgil. He didn't get the luxury of having at least  _one_  name that was cool. Nothing about him was cool. Which is why no one would ever want to fuse with him.

So, what does Anxiety say when someone asks his name?

"Mr. Side." Anxiety said, shifting away from the other person.

"Yeah, but  _what_  Side?" The person would always say. "I'm a Side, too, and you don't see me hiding my trait."

This is how Anxiety quickly decided if you were worth his time. Those who just nodded and carried on with their own introductions? Good. Not Scary. Keep those ones around. Those who got angry and tried to force Anxiety's name out of him? Bad. Scary. Do not interact.

The worst times were when he, for whatever reason, had to say both his names. Like at the doctors. You see, doctor's offices and other governmental programs refused to let you go by just 'Mr. Side'. For whatever reason, they would shout out your full name in the waiting room, for all to hear. Anxiety hated it. He hated that everyone turned and looked to see who had the two shitty names. He hated that everyone took one look at him and thought, 'glad he's not  _my_  Side'. Doctors liked to pat themselves on the back for their 'confidentiality', but they lacked the tact to remember that not everyone liked themselves and that some names were better left unsaid.

This is where Anxiety is now, sitting in a stiff chair, scrolling through his phone and practicing his breathing exercises. There are only a few other people in the waiting room; an old man, a mom, and her kid. Anxiety doesn't make eye contact.

It's just a dumb routine check-up. A large part of him wants to skip it, to walk out and not have to be around when they call out his name. But a bigger part of him knows that if he didn't get a checkup, he would soon realize that he has some horrible, deadly disease, and then he'd get incredibly sick, and then he would have to check into a hospital, and he would hate it, and have a panic attack, and - knowing his luck - he'd probably die.

So. Here he is. Anxious and miserable, just like his name.

"Look, babe, I don't got to be here, okay?" A voice was saying. Anxiety glanced up, only because the person was rather loud. It was some guy; tall with brown hair, and sunglasses perched on his nose, despite being indoors. A total tool. He had a companion, someone who was facing the other direction, talking to the front desk. The companion had shoulder-length brown hair, and was wearing a dark blue jacket that went well past her hips. She had to keep pushing her sleeves up while she wrote things down. The man took a long sip from his coffee before saying, "I'm the epitome of health."

"We both know that's a lie." The woman said, turning around. Anxiety shifted a little. There was something familiar about her. She was scowling a little, "And take those off, we're inside, and you look like-" her scowl disappeared as she cheerfully ended with, "a million bucks!"

Anxiety frowned a little, watching them more closely. The woman winced and held her head, and the man touched her shoulders, whispering something Anxiety couldn't hear.

"Is she alright?" The fusion at the front desk asked.

"Fine, just a headache." The man responded for her. Then, quieter, "Let's sit down, okay, Missy? I'll take off my glasses, just- just chill, okay?"

The woman, Missy, nodded, and the two turned to the chairs. Anxiety quickly glanced away, mentally repeating ' _Don't sit by me, don't sit by me, don't sit by - dammit!'_

The duo sat down right across from him - why do waiting rooms always have chairs facing each other? They were still focused on each other, the man fussing over Missy, and Missy leaning against him with her eyes closed.

"Just rest, babe." The man said. "Do you want to fuse?"

It was in that moment that Anxiety realized what must be wrong. Some Sides, when unfused or unestablished, can have pains when they express their trait. Kind of like an extra 'fuck you' from God. Sometimes Anxiety's chest hurt, but that could just be the, you know, anxiety. Anyway, his theory is that it's a not-so-subtle way of your body telling you to hurry up and find your other Sides. It was awful.

Missy shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm fine. Take those off." She grabbed the sunglasses and put them into her purse. The man gasped, offended, before crossing his arms and looking away from her.

That's when everything froze.

Anxiety's breath hitched and he dropped his phone, it clattered, falling to the floor. The duo looked up at him, and he could see it in their eyes. They recognized him in the same way he did them. They shared the same face.

He didn't know what to do. He had never met potential Sides before. He stared at them, frozen, even as they scrambled across the aisle to take the empty seats on either side of him.

"Oh, hello there!" Missy said excitedly, grabbing his hands, squeezing them once.

"Handsome face you got," the man said, running a finger under his chin. Anxiety pulled away from him, scowling. His anxiety spiked, the rushing of blood in his ears overpowered all his thoughts. He turned to Missy, who seemed slightly less scary, but she was looking at him so hopefully and  _that_  turned out to be scarier than Sir Flirts Alot.

He ended up just staring down at his phone, which still laid on the floor in front of them. He was panicking, he could feel it. That's not right, he shouldn't be freaking out, these are his  _Sides_. They're supposed to calm his anxiety, make him feel full and complete. And yet-

"So, I'm Remy, I represent Proper-"

"More like  _Improper_ -" Missy interrupted. Remy rolled his eyes and playfully flipped the other Side off.

Remy continued, "Sleep, and this is Missy, she's Femininity, Compliments,  _Nagging_ -"

"Hey!" She grinned.

The two were so familiar with each other, it was hard for Anxiety to focus. They switched between who was talking too quickly, they bantered and joked, and that was fine, but Anxiety felt like he was missing the punchline. His mind felt fuzzy and he kind of wanted to cry.

 _Stupid!_  He told himself,  _this isn't how you're supposed to feel. Why aren't you happy?_

"What's your name, stranger?" Remy asked suddenly.

"Mr. Side." Anxiety replied, his heart in his throat. He couldn't make eye contact, and he wasn't sure why his own face was so terrifying.

Missy and Remy glanced at each other, quiet for a moment.

"And your actual name?" Missy asked, softly. She didn't seem upset, and Anxiety felt a small calm sweep over him. But it was gone a second later. He chewed his lip, unable to speak his name out loud.

 _Here goes._  He thought.  _Here's the moment when they reject me._

"Remus Sleep Side?" A nurse asked from the door to the private rooms. Remy glanced from the nurse to Anxiety, then to Missy, before sighing loudly and standing up.

"I have to go." Remy said, "But we'll continue this."

Anxiety watched as Remy disappeared behind the door with the nurse. He wasn't even upset that the other Side got to see the doctor before him. He was just glad he could have a second to breathe.

"We didn't mean to scare you."

Anxiety jumped, he had forgotten Missy was there. He turned to see his face - but as a girl - staring back at him. She was pretty, and her eyes held a kindness to them that he found himself trusting. Maybe she could be his other Side? Maybe he was just being stupid, paranoid, as usual.

"It's okay." Anxiety said, "I wasn't scared, it was just …  _a lot_."

"Sorry. We're just excited. We've been looking for our other Sides for a long time, now." Missy explained, "We were starting to think they were on the other side of the world or something. And then, just when we're about to give up hope, there's  _you_."

Anxiety didn't say anything. What could he say? That he wanted to fuse, but there was no way they'd like him. That he was bad and that they should look for someone else? That there's no way he'd  _ever_  meet their expectations? In the end, he just shrugged.

"Can I have your number?" Missy asked after a second of hesitation. "Just so we can stay in contact. We could set up dates, and fuse, find our other two Sides-"

"Okay, sure, fine," Anxiety said, finally snatching his phone from the floor. The familiar weight calmed him for just a moment, but then he shoved his phone into Missy's hands and muttered, "I'll text you."

Missy silently typed in her number and passed the phone back. She placed a hand on his arm and said, "Don't worry. We won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

Anxiety nodded once, and opened his mouth to speak, but then his spine went rigid as the nurse called his name.

"Virgil Anxiety Side?"

He stared at Missy, eyes wide. She watched as he slowly stood up, and turned to the nurse. He closed his eyes, his fists clenched at his sides, and took a deep breath. He walked forward and ignored the tiny "oh" of understanding coming from behind him.

Welp. Now they knew. Now Missy will tell Remy what Side he is and they'll decide that they don't  _want_  Anxiety and he'll be alone forever. He was shaking as he walked into the doctor's office. He didn't look back.

He wasn't going to text her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/)


	3. Morality

Morality hums to himself as he opens a big, colorful door. He steps into a room filled with sound; little Sing was practicing her vocals. Disruptive and Arrogant were fighting over a toy. Excitement was talking the ear off of Gender Expression, who looked over at Morality with something akin to relief in their eyes.

“Excitement, do you mind finishing your story later? Mx. Expression needs to have a chat with Mr. Morality, okay?” Expression said, standing up and leaving the child to her own devices. Morality chuckled as Expression let out a deep sigh. “I’ve had a  _ morning _ . I’ve basically given up on those two,” they gesture to the fighting toddlers, “and I can’t find Shy anywhere. Oh, and Slob completely destroyed my purse.”

Morality smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be late, but there was this puppy-”

Expression held up their hands, “I don’t care. Will you, just, help me?”

“Of course.” Morality said. He was very good with kids while Expression, well, Expression wasn’t the  _ worst _ with children, but they certainly needed help every now and then. There was nothing wrong with that, Morality didn’t mind.

Morality was able to get the children under control within only a few minutes, and only a few hours later, it was nap time. Morality sat down with a sigh, smiling at all the sleeping kiddos. Expression was drinking from a water bottle. They handed it to Morality and then tied up their bright fire red hair up into a bun. Then they rolled up their sleeves, showing off their many tattoos.

Morality brightened, “Did you get a new one?”

“No, this is Autumn coloring on me, because the others were being too loud.” Expression gestured to the red and green scribbles on their arms. Autumn was one of their kiddos, she had sensory problems and sometimes coloring helped to distract her from all of her surroundings. They used her Established name, only because her parents asked them to. Most kids liked to go by their Side name, shouting it out for everyone to hear. Sometimes people didn’t like to go by their Side name; that’s what Established names were for.

Morality chuckled, “Well, it almost looks like a cloud. I wouldn’t doubt you if you said that was your newest tattoo.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t doubt anyone.” Expression grumbled, “You’re too trusting.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little trusting.” Morality replied, having to look up at the short person. “Trust is what makes relationships; if you don’t trust people, you’ll never be able to have a healthy and long-lasting relationship with them.”

Expression gagged, “No thanks. I’m fine on my own.”

Morality pouted, “Press, we talked about this… Are you sure you really don’t want to find your other Sides?”

Expression shifted on their feet before sitting down next to him. The chairs were made for baby butts, so it wasn’t super comfy. But they were both used to it, after working here for so long. Expression scowled and crossed their arms over their flat chest.

“No, I really don’t. If I fuse with someone, then  _ they’ll  _ dictate how we dress, how we present ourselves. I don’t want that.” Expression huffed, “What if my other Sides are cis? What if they try to squash me. There’s always one Side that disappears, what if that’s me?”

Morality put a hand on Expression’s shoulder, sympathetic, “Hey, I know it’s scary, giving yourself away to total strangers, but … they  _ aren’t _ strangers. Your other Sides are the people that were  _ made _ for you. They’re not going to force you to be cis. They’re going to listen to you, and let you dictate how your Established will express themself.”

Expression shrugged, “I can’t take that risk, you know? This is too important to me. I’d rather be alone and happy than fused and miserable.”

Morality nodded, giving them a sad smile, “That’s your choice. I won’t ask you about it anymore.”

“Somehow…” Expression started to grin, “That feels like a lie, Mr.  _ Morality _ .”

Morality gasped, holding a hand to his chest, “Hey now! I’m only looking out for my favorite kiddo!”

Expression rolled their eyes, but chuckled, “And what about you? Have you been looking?”

Morality’s smile only brightened, “I have! Haven’t found anyone, though. I don’t really know where to look, honestly. Who would be a good counterpart for me?”

Expression studied him for a moment, looking him up and down, before finally saying, “I dunno, but you would need someone to straighten you out.”

“We both know that I’ll never  _ straighten, _ regardless of who I fuse with,” Morality said, earning a snort from Expression. Morality thought for a moment, wondering who his other Sides would be. “No matter what, they’ll be wonderful. I’m excited to meet them someday. I know that whoever they are, they’re amazing.”

Expression leaned back and stared at him wistfully, “I wish I was you. You’re so … open, so willing to meet them. Aren’t you a little scared?”

Instantly, Morality shook his head, “Not at all. I trust that they are good, and they will love me the way that the universe designed them to. We’re meant to be together. That means something, doesn’t it?”

Expression shrugged, “I guess.” They looked down at their arm, covered in marker and tattoo ink. Then, they looked over to Morality, “Do you want to come with me to get my next tattoo?”

“Sure. Do you know when you want to get it done?” Morality asked, “I can be there for  _ Moral _ support.”

Expression groaned at the joke and then said, “I dunno, probably sometime later in the month. I gotta get my paycheck first. These things ain’t cheap.”

“What are you gonna get?” Morality asked.

“Flowers, I think.” Expression said, tracing the outlines of one of their tattoos, “I have a lot of dark tats. I got, like, four dedicated to viking metal. I want to have one that’s just … pretty.”

Morality nodded, “I like that. You should do cats!”

“Cats?”

“Big, fat, fluffy ones!” Morality nodded, “Since I would never get a tattoo, you should get one for me, and it should be cats, and it should say ‘I am purrrfect’ with little hearts.”

Expression laughed and nodded, “Okay, Morie, I’ll get the cats. Flowers can be another day, huh?”

“Really!?”

“Sure, why not?”

Just then, Insomnia sat up and waddled over to them, blankie in hand. “I am done sleeping.” He informed them.

Morality nodded seriously, “Okay, you did very good today. You slept a whole hour! Do you want a cookie?”

Insomnia nodded and they had cookies and milk quietly while the others continued their nap time. It was a typical day for Morality; nothing was ever really new around here. They kept things interesting, but, at the same time, something in Morality’s heart ached for something new.

He knew what it was, too, what it could only be.

He really wanted to fuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/)


	4. Roman

"Cut!"

Roman sighed and lowered his arms, stepping away from his dance partner. His feet were sore and he didn't get much sleep last night; not to  _mention_  they've been at this for  _hours,_  and a prince is flawless in all ways, but even  _he_ needed a break sometimes. He and Monica shot each other annoyed glances.

The director they had for this show? You wanna know what his name is? Huh? Do ya? It's Perfectionist. It  _sounds_  like a good thing, right? You'd want your show to be perfect, yeah? Nope. No, no no no no no  _nooo_. It's the worst. He's running all of them to the bone and Roman doesn't even  _like_  cardio in the first place.

Perfectionist rubs the bridge of his nose as he steps up to the stage, clearly annoyed. "Pop Culture,  _what_  did I say about your arms? Higher! Higher!"

Monica huffs and lifts her arms up into position; her first pair of arms gracefully cross over her head, while her second pair reaches out to Roman. "Like this?"

"Elbows up!" Perfectionist shouted. "And you're  _still_  half a second slower than the beat, pick up the  _pace_! You said you could salsa!"

"It's not her fault." Roman said, giving Perfectionist his best charming smile. "She's just a little tired. We all are. Can we have a break?"

Perfectionist scowled, but glanced around at the cast sitting around him. They were all exhausted, souls trying to escape through their eyes, some still panting hard. "Fine. Ten minutes and that's  _it_. If any of you are a  _second_  late, you're off the show!"

"That would be a blessing at this point." Monica muttered in Roman's ear. He snorted and watched as their castmates surried off to the bathroom or to look through their backpacks.

Roman turned to her, placing a hand on her second, left wrist. He smiled sympathetically, "You okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed, rubbing her neck with one hand while fixing her dark ponytail with two others. "Have you noticed he only yells at me?"

"Kind of." Roman shot a glance at their director, who was now flipping through stage notes. "I don't think he's …  _fond_  of fusions."

Monica rolled her eyes, "Está justo enfadado porque es soltero."

"True." Roman laughed. He stretched and gestured to the door, "I'm going to go refill my water bottle, okay? I'll be back."

Monica waved him off, but she was holding her own hands distractedly. Roman watched her for a second before he grabbed his water bottle and jogged to the hall door. Roman frowned to himself as he thought. Monica can get weird sometimes, not like  _weird_  weird, but kind of  _weird_  weird, you know?

She talked to herself, often. And that was fine, sometimes yourself is a  _fantastic_  conversationalist. But the thing was, it wasn't actually  _herself_ , if you catch his drift. Roman didn't know a lot about fusions, but he did know that there was  _a lot_  happening in there at once. It was no wonder Monica couldn't keep up as much. She had to work harder than all the others here. This year, only Established and Sides made the cast, except for Monica. Pop Culture proved that she could keep up with them, but now Perfectionist was being even harder on her…..

The whole thing was very  _uncharming_.

Despite this, Roman was sure about one thing, he was  _never_  going to fuse. It wasn't that he didn't  _like_  fusions, he just - well, okay, how should he put this, see, Roman is just the first human in all of existence to just  _not_  have Sides. He was born Established. That's just how he is. He is completely complete on his own. It's actually really impressive if you think about it.

Roman hummed to himself as he approached the water fountain. He watched as the water yeeted itself into his bottle.

"Pardon me, do you know the location of the Auditorium?" Someone asked from behind him.

Roman didn't look up - he didn't want to get water on his hands - as he said over his shoulder, "Down the hall and to the right, it'll be the first door on your left. Can't miss it."

The freshman - because it had to be a freshman on the cast who was lost, right? - said, "Thank you, greatly." and walked off.

Roman didn't think much else about it, removing his water bottle and tightening the lid back on it. Before going back to the auditorium, he stopped by the vending machines and bought a granola bar. He needed to keep his energy up or else Perfectionist will harp on him next.

Biting into his snack, he pushed through the doors and pulled out his phone; his water bottle tucked between his arm and his side. He checked his messages and noticed that he had a  _bitchton_  of texts from Remy and Disability. Just as he was about to click on their group chat, Perfectionist shouted, "SIDE! Get over here!"

Roman, along with multiple other panicked Sides, scrambled up to the stage. He got into position next to Monica and waited for the music to play. Monica grabbed his hands and whispered, "Why do we suddenly have an audience?"

"Hm?" Roman glanced out at the seats and, sure enough, there was now someone sitting out there. He couldn't see them through the stage lights, but he knew that he was being watched. He shrugged and grinned, "Guess it's showtime."

Monica couldn't help but let out a giggle as the music started and Roman whisked her off into a quick-footed dance. Roman grinned, twisting her around and swinging them across the stage. The other dancers were surrounding them, going through their own steps. Roman glanced over at the stranger in the seats, a small thrill running down his spine.

Weirdly, practice went much easier after that. Perfectionist wasn't as salty and they were able to  _finally_  get through the dance. Roman joked around with the others and they got a lot of work done. It was kind of unusual for them.

Once practice let out, Roman grabbed his backpack and opened his phone again. Just as he clicked on the group chat for him and his friends, someone tapped on his shoulder.

"Excuse me," Someone said.

Roman turned and looked at the person behind him. He frowned when he saw himself - but as a nerd - staring back. "Oh."

"My name is Logic and I was wondering if-" The man was saying. Roman took a step back, clutching his backpack strap tightly.

He relaxed once he realized that, duh, this guy was one of Remy and Missy's Sides. Forcing a smile, he took the other man's hand, shaking it. "Have you met your others yet?"

Logic's eyes widened in surprise, "Well, actually, no. That's why I'm here, I was-"

Roman laughed loudly, "Well you're not going to find them here! I can give you their number and you can go on your way, how about that?"

Logic's expression retreated slightly, his head cocking to the side and his lips lowering from their small smile. "What do you mean?"

"Your other Sides?" Roman said innocently. "They aren't actors."

Logic was growing suspicious, or at least, moderately confused. "Why is the idea that  _we're_ compatible so preposterous?"

 _Well, because you just used the word 'preposterous'_ , Roman thought. He shrugged, allowing his smile to fall a little, "Because I don't have any Sides. I'm already Established."

Logic frowned, "But the instructor called you 'Side'."

Roman took a couple steps towards the front door, "It's a coincidence. Look, if you want me to introduce you to some  _actual_  Sides, I can, but otherwise, I have to go, so…"

The other man didn't respond, so Roman walked out. His heart was beating like he just did a jazz number, and he couldn't quite catch his breath. He shoved his shaking hands into his pockets while he tried to push away all the weird, unprincely feelings inside him.

As he walked home, he couldn't help but wonder about that Side - Logic. Should he tell Remy and Missy about him? He certainly looked like them. Maybe they were one step closer to becoming Established.

Just like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/)


	5. Deceit

"Alright gentlemen, I want a simple game; clean. If I catch even one of you stupid Sides counting, I'll kick all'a'y'all out. Hear?"

"He's talkin' ta you, Deceit."

"Boys, boys, I would  _never_." Deceit smiled coolly, sitting back in his plush seat. His ringed fingers gently tapped his arm rest in a slow, even rhythm. The other players around the table laughed; pounding on the wood and slapping each other - utter fools, all of them. They'd have to be to play a poker game against  _him_. Deceit can always tell when someone isn't being honest; you can't trick a trickster.

The cards are dealt; around the table, one by one. Deceit's eyes follow each player as they pick up a new card; reading their reactions, calculating each player's tell. The lights were low; almost as low as the waitress' shirts. Deceit smiled flirtatiously at a woman as she passed, smoothly shooting her a wink. Someone - probably Addiction - was smoking in another part of the bar. She'll be kicked out soon enough. It should've been sooner; but the staff has a soft spot for her.

They played through a couple rounds; Deceit winning a hundred bucks in the process. Few could keep up with him around these parts. He sighed as he collected his money and slowly made his way across the bar, towards the exit. He swiped a shot of  _something_  from a waiter who was distracted by their table. Not missing a beat, he threw it back and dropped it off on another waiter's tray. With a high-five to Addiction, he was stepping out the doors and into the bright, beautiful world.

He turned down the street towards his flat and counted the money he won. This, plus that pool game last night, adds up to only half his rent. He sighed and shoved the money back into his pocket. He needed more…

A group of people had stopped to watch the TVs through the window of some electronics store. Deceit slowed down, glancing at what was on the screen. It was some newscast discussing how some celebrity had found their last Side and was now going to have an Established celebration. Rich people always throw big-ass parties that cost more than houses to celebrate their Establishment. It was just another way they were slaves to capitalism; throwing money into useless extravagances just to fit the status quo.

"Isn't that sweet." Deceit cooed, earning agreeing comments from the small cluster. Without looking away from the TV, Deceit slipped the wallet out of the nearest woman's purse. Once the TV screen started showing fireworks and the Established celebrity's smiling face, Deceit casually strolled off down the street. He only picked through the woman's wallet when he was far enough away. Forty bucks. Ugh. Why doesn't anyone carry cash anymore?

He tucked the forty dollars into his pants before he walked into the Police station. He waited in line and smiled kindly at the reception worker. "Hi, I found this wallet on the ground outside. I think someone dropped it. It has an ID in it, but I wasn't sure what to do… can I leave it here?"

"We can make sure it gets to the right person. Thank you so much, sir!"

Deceit walked out, tapping his new Orlando Police Department pen against his leg with each step. God, this was easy. He was blessed with a face people trust and the wit to use it to his advantage.

He continued his stroll home, unwilling to risk more pick-pocketing. Rent wasn't due for a while; he had time. He frowned when he saw the road was blocked off up ahead. He thought through his probabilities; could he lie his way around the barrier and continue down his normal route? Seeing that it was a huge car crash with tons of police and medics around? Unlikely.

Deceit huffed, but rerouted and turned to go down a block. It was a sunny day; afternoon. The schools were letting out, and that was great. Deceit hated kids.

"Be careful, kiddo! Wait for your dad!"

Deceit glanced up, doing a double-take at the man he saw. It was his face, but genuine. The man, who was helping small kids into their parents' cars, laughed loudly; his smile taking up half his face.

Deceit tripped.

Face red, he scrambled around a corner, out of sight of his doppleganger. Deceit took a moment to think.

What the fuck.

Whatthefuck.

What. THe. FUCK.

Did one of Deceit's Sides live near him…?

He had never once pondered the possibility that one of his Sides would be near him. He didn't stay up all night when he was young, imagining what it would be like to have people who  _understand_  him because they  _are_  him. He never dared to dream that maybe, one day, he'd be Established and he'd never be disrespected again. No. Not once. Didn't even cross his mind.

He was entirely prepared for this situation.

He peered around the corner to look at the man in question. Yup. That was his Side alright. They had the same nose; same hair; same build and expressions. How very  _uninteresting_. He needed to know  _less_  right now.

He snatched up a newspaper from the ground and held it up to his face as he walked closer. Being careful to hide from the other man's sight; Deceit snuck some pictures on his phone. Once he was satisfied, he dropped the newspaper and stepped back into the dark alleyways; thoughts running wild the entire walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/) where you can take part in my Week of Writing!!  
> Or, if you'd like [you can read my novel here](https://www.inkitt.com/stories/adventure/301184)


	6. Logic

The coffee shop Logic had chosen to meet at was quiet. It was next to campus, but was considered the “gay” coffee shop. It is known as such due to the fact that the owner is a homosexual man. Regardless, this meant that there was a smaller clientele demographic, and Logic anticipated a peaceful evening.  
He had arrived fifteen minutes earlier than the agreed upon time. This allowed Logic plenty of time to order his beverage (a hot green tea; no sugar) and find a suitable spot to watch the door and await his company. Logic glanced at his watch, five minutes until their friendly due date. The bell above the door jingled.  
Logic immediately sat up straighter, nodding at the Side who walked in. Structure nodded back, their lip quirking upwards in a quick motion. They gestured to the front, indicating that they’ll get their drink before joining him. Logic watched their back as they spoke to the cashier.  
He wasn’t fully sure what had driven him to invite Structure out on a coffee date of all things last night. At first, he just wanted to ensure that the other had his number, simply sending a “Greetings. This is my contact information. Please memorise it.” text, per usual. But then Structure had sent him a rather amusing infographic about tetrapods and, as the phrase goes: “one thing led to asking an acquaintance to a platonic outing”.  
Logic placed his hands in his lap once Structure sat across from him, carrying a plate with a plain bagel and a cup of black coffee. Logic waited until Structure had set everything down and was situated before he glanced down at his watch: 8:00. Perfectly Punctual. He expected nothing less from a Side referred to as ‘Structure and Planning’.   
Logic cleared his throat before saying, “Greetings.”  
“Greetings!” Structure was excited today. They practically were leaning over their bagel, immediately asking, “Well? What had happened after your departure?”  
“Ah.” Logic realized, “You are inquiring about if I had found a potential Side or not.”  
Structure nodded, spreading butter on their bagel, “The suspense is killing me.” They paused their buttering. “Metaphorically.”  
Logic hesitated, thinking about the interaction he had with that … dancing individual. “I admit, even I am unsure of what I had experienced yesterday.”  
“Oh? How so?” Structure took a bite from their bagel, eyes never leaving Logic’s face.  
Frowning, Logic said, “The man I met seemed like the perfect match, logically speaking. We were nearly identical in facial structure and, aside from a few physical features, bodies. He even sounded like me.” Logic chuckled to himself, “It’s absurd, hearing ‘myself’ speak in such irrational ways.”  
Structure only seemed more curious, “Irrational how? And why are you indicating there was a negative reaction last night?”  
Logic only sighed, looking down at his hands in his lap. He had started picking at his nails; a bad habit that he never was smart enough to squash. Slowly, he wrapped his hands around his warm cup, so he couldn’t pull at any more hangnails. Structure let out a small gasp.  
“There was a negative reaction last night…” They whispered to themself.  
Logic scoffed, “It was no ‘negative reaction’, it was an outright rejection. The man I met - he didn’t even give me his name, said that he was already Established. Then he left before I could gather any more information.”  
Structure chewed on their lip, thinking, “Well, it’s certainly possible…”  
“Excuse me?” Logic asked, surprised.  
Structure gestured to the cashier as an example, “How many Established people are there our age? They’re not exactly rare. It’s entirely in the realm of probability that the man you met was actually Established.”  
Logic was already shaking his head before they finished their point. He looked away from the cashier to counter, “No, I can prove he was lying. I just have to do some research on him first.”  
“If you want to.” Structure shrugged, taking a sip of their coffee. “It may lead to a dead end, though. A pretty face does not a fusion make.”  
That made Logic roll his eyes, muttering, “You realize that insinuates that you think I have a pretty face.”  
Structure winked at him.  
Oh. Oh!  
Logic cleared his throat, straightening his tie. He continued his point, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “There was something peculiar about that man, though. I can’t put my finger on it, but he stands out in a way that no one has to me before. That has to mean something, right?”  
The other Side thought for a moment, before settling on, “It could be evidence for a championship Where’s Waldo streak in elementary school.”  
“I am exceptional at word searches.” Logic said, shooting a grin across the table. Structure snorted, shoving a bite of their bagel into their mouth. Logic forced himself to focus, “Still, I hypothesize there is something that man is not telling me.”  
“Probably many things.” Structure muttered to themself, taking another sip of coffee.  
“Furthermore,” Logic leans across the table to snatch the other half of Structure’s bagel. “I hypothesize this actor is my counterbalance Side and that we will fuse in the foreseeable future.”  
Structure glanced around, “Is this like, a bet?”  
Logic sighed and gave them their bagel back, uninterested in gluten. “You find yourself so amusing.”  
“I have reason to believe do share the same findings.” Structure grinned at him, nudging him under the table.  
Logic said in a blank tone, “Oh, yes, allow me to laugh.” He took in a deep breath, then, a reasonable, “Ha.”  
“Fuck you.” Despite the language, Structure did not seem upset. It appeared to be another form of banter. The Side was smiling widely. Their cheeks became rosey when they were enthused. It was … cute. Aesthetically speaking. Neither of them had spoken for too long, and now the air had turned, what the kids call, “awkward”.  
Structure glanced away, tapping their fingers on the table. “Seriously, though, why are you so sure that he’s yours?”  
Logic glanced up at the tone of his aquantance’s voice. It was lacking the light flutter that he had associated with the other. He shifted in his seat a little, choosing his words carefully. “Once I was near him, the buzzing in my head stopped.”  
That got Structure to pause, focusing entirely on Logic’s voice.  
Logic licked his lips, gaze shifting to somewhere in the distance. He could remember vividly what it felt like to stand next to the other man. It was something that Logic had never felt before; a sense of warmth. It was entirely baseless, but Logic believed that that empty spot on stage next to that man belonged to him.  
“For the past few months, my thoughts have been scrambled.” Logic explained in a ‘puberty, you know’ kind of way. Structure nodded, gesturing for him to continue. “I have intense migraines; sometimes I can’t focus. Because of this sound in the back of my head. An alarm of sorts.”  
“For fusion.” Structure mumbled quietly, sitting back in their seat.  
Logic nodded, playing with the lid of his cup. “Standing next to him, for those brief moments, it was silent.” Logic felt himself smile softly, allowing himself to reminisce about a stranger. “I felt like I was myself again; I could properly think for the first time in months.”  
Structure let out a small groan. If Logic believed them to be a lesser Side he would’ve called it a whine. “I need to find my Sides.”  
Shaking his head, Logic huffed, “It’s not preferable. Just look at me, a Logic Side basing a hypothesis on how I _feel_.” He gagged, “Despicable.”  
Structure shrugged, “Consider it a scientific hunch.”  
The bell above the door jingled. At first, Logic wasn’t going to acknowledge the person who walked in, until the owner called, “Sorry, honey! No fusions inside!”  
“¡Ah, mierda!” The fusion said, crossing her four arms. “I thought this place was about love, viejo!”   
“Oh my Go- Do we have to do this every time, Monica?” The owner seemed rather upset. He grabbed a megaphone from under the counter and projected: “I DON’T HAVE BIG ENOUGH CHAIRS!”  
Structure rubbed their ears gently, scowling, “Was the megaphone necessary?”  
“That’s her.” Logic said, staring at the bickering fusion. “That’s the fusion.”  
Structure turned to look at her, confused, “She doesn’t look anything like you. And she’s not a man. Probably. And she’s a fusion.” They turned back to Logic, expectantly, “Who the fuck is that?”  
Again, Structure didn’t seem upset. On the contrary, they appeared even more interested in Logic’s tale. Logic hesitated, watching as the fusion unfused into two grumpy women.  
“Furniture is expensive, sisters!” The owner sighed, setting the megaphone down.  
“Once more, the oppressive forces keep us apart!” One of the women gushed, grasping onto the other’s arm.  
The second woman just rolled her eyes, muttering something that Logic couldn’t hear. The cashier awkwardly took their order, undoubtedly giving them a discount. Logic distractedly explained, “Their fusion was the dance partner to my potential Side last night.”  
“They’re friends?” Structure asked.  
“One can assume.” Logic shrugged. The two turned back to watching the women. They had long dark brown hair. He could already tell why the two were fused so often: it was out of convenience. They were already squashed together all the time; they might as well get four arms out of it. Logic nodded to himself, having already made up his mind. “I’m going to talk to them.”  
“Oh! A lead!” Structure took an over-enthusiastic gulp of their coffee. They had forgotten it was hot and ended up coughing at the sudden burning sensation. Logic handed the other Side napkins, trying not to be too amused nor too grossed out.  
“Let’s sit over by the twinks, Princess!”  
“The _what_?” Logic needed a moment to double check that he heard that right. Then he had to triple check that that word meant what he thought that word meant. He wasn’t going to explain why - but he was mildly offended.  
Someone laughed, “¡No digas eso!”  
Logic looked up and, yes, in fact, the two women were sitting at the table next to theirs. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to walk across the cafe, potentially seeming intimidating. This was a “blessing” in “disguise”. Structure was happy to sit back and watch the show up close.  
“Pardon me.” Logic said, gaining the ladies’ attentions.  
The shorter woman spoke, “Hey, sorry about my girlfriend. I can’t control her.”  
“I understand; it’s the fundamental flaw with all Sides: they have no filters.” Logic nodded, ready to carry on with his questions.  
The taller woman snorted, mocking, “It’s the _fundamental flaw_!” She burst into giggles before patting Logic’s hand (no) and adding, “Sorry, you’re hilarious, continue.”  
“My name is Logic.” He said, slowly pulling his hand out from under the woman’s.  
“Like the rapper?” The taller woman asked.  
“No, didn’t you hear? He’s Established now.” The shorter woman said.  
“Ohmygodnoway!”  
“They announced it yesterday.”  
Logic turned and shared a defeated look with Structure. Talking to women was more difficult than he originally anticipated. They had yet to make it past the introductions and he had class in an hour. Structure was enjoying themself far too much.  
Logic leaned close enough to hiss at them, “Shut up, you just choked on coffee. What? Didn’t plan for that?”  
Structure stuck their tongue out at him, but was able to lessen the general amusement of their expression 12.3%, so Logic dropped it. When Logic turned back to the women, the shorter one was saying, “How did you not know this, we’re literally fused together all the time.”  
Logic interrupted before they could continue this riveting conversation. “If I may, what are your names?”  
“Oh, hello! I’m Thespian,” The taller woman said, “I represent all the singing, the dancing, the _good stuff_.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, holding out her hand. “You can call me _anytime_.”  
“I will not.” Logic said, gently pushing her hand away.  
“She goes by Theo.” The shorter woman told him. She seemed far more relaxed than the other Side. She was leaning back in her chair, unconcerned with the vitals of good posture. “My name is Heritage. Llámame Harry.” She fingergunned, “¿Qué pasa?”  
Logic gestured between the two of them, “And when you two are fused, may I ask your fusion’s name?”  
“Pop Culture.” Theo chirped proudly.  
“How’s that work out?” Structure asked.  
“I’m the Pop!” Thespian shouted.  
“And I’m the Culture.” Heritage grinned.  
The two women fist-pumped, but they weren’t nearly as excited as Logic was. He nodded enthusiastically, pointing to the two women, “Yes, that’s the name the instructor kept shouting! Pop Cutlure! The man you were dancing with last night, what was his name?”  
“Do you mean-” Theo halted her words at just a tap from Harry, who was watching Logic carefully. Logic didn’t like the way her gaze flickered across his face, recognizing his features easily.  
“Why do you want to know?” Harry asked.  
Logic saw no reason in lying, “I believe he may be one of my Sides.”  
“Roman is Established.” Harry crossed her arms.  
“His name is Roman.” Logic mentally recorded. It was … a name. It didn’t sound right; it felt clunky on his tongue. He was expecting something different, he supposed. He was expecting a _Side’s_ name.  
Harry huffed, ignoring her giggling girlfriend. She stayed persistent, “Regardless, he’s already Established and he doesn’t want any more of you pretty boys sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”  
“Any more?” Logic asked, “Who else had…” He trailed off, remembering what the man - Roman - had said to him. Roman supposedly knew who his other Sides were. Had he not been the first one of his Sides to harass him? He switched his tactics, asking, “Roman had mentioned that he knew who my other Sides were. Could you give him a message, telling him I would like help finding them.”  
“Probablemente quiera decir Remy y Missy.” Harry said to Theo.  
Theo had her chin resting on her hand, her eyes squinted in thought as she said, “Hmmm… si.”  
Harry rolled her eyes and turned to Logic, “We’ll let him know.”  
Just then, Logic’s alarm on his watch went off. He had to get to class soon. Well, he wanted a quiet morning coffee with his new acquaintance, and now he’s got a mild headache and the distinct urge to stand outside the auditorium all day. Quickly, he scribbled down his phone number on a napkin. He was going to hand it to Theo, then thought better of it, and gave it to Harry.  
“Please give him this.”  
He said his goodbyes to both the women and Structure before he made his escape. He could only wait for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/) or, if you'd like [you can read bits of my novel here](https://www.inkitt.com/stories/adventure/301184)


	7. A. Side

Sunglasses. Of all things why did his subconscious decide he should doodle sunglasses? Anxiety huffed and scribbled over the drawing, ignoring the implications of his actions. What did it matter? Sunglasses could mean anything. He didn't know anyone especially prone to wearing them everywhere.

Not at all. Nope.

His phone lit up beside him and that only made him think about the number sitting there, waiting to be called. Bouncing his leg, he flipped his phone over so he wouldn't be bothered by her -  _it_  - anymore.

He stared down at the paper in front of him, covered in doodles that he scratched out because they weren't good enough. He groaned and ran a hand through his purple hair, trying to focus his scattered thoughts.

_Call them call them call them_. His mind kept chanting, which was ridiculous, because he'd never voluntarily  _call_  someone, even if they were his Side. He didn't want to do it. He didn't! And when you don't want to do something because it scares you a lot, the best thing to do is listen to yourself and  _not fucking do it_.

_Text them text them text them_. More likely, but still no.

Why did it even matter? Anxiety didn't need his Sides. He had been alone his entire life; there was no need to change that now. It wasn't like he was lonely or anything. He was entirely satisfied with where he was in life right now. He had a killer job and a nice apartment; what else would he need?  
His chest spiked with a sudden pain. Anxiety huffed and rubbed his shirt, hoping the pain would lessen. The doctor told him this would keep happening until he was Established. He told the doctor to fuck off. Quietly. In his head.

Honestly he thought the whole "fusion" business was unnecessary. Why couldn't he just be himself? Yeah, he didn't particularly  _want_  to be himself. But letting someone fuse with him? To get to know him deeply and personally? Not gonna happen.

What he had come to terms with as a teenager was that being himself sucked and being someone else sucked and life in general just (you guessed it) sucked. There was no escape.

It didn't help that his parents kept bugging him about it.

_When are you gonna fuse?_

_I can introduce you to a nice boy, he looks a bit like you!_

_You're not even_ trying  _to make it work!_

Anxiety refocused on his paper, realizing he was doodling Missy's face while lost in his thoughts. Her hair framed her face so gently, and her smile was a kind, trusting one. She had big eyes, full of emotion. Even though he only met her once, every detail of her face was ingrained in his head. (Mostly because they shared the same face.) He was about to scribble it out; but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Because it was a good drawing. That's all.

The bell above the door jingled. Anxiety looked up as two girls walked in, holding hands. He could already tell they were Sides, and tried to not seem annoyed. He got a  _lot_  of Sides as his clients. They always wanted something cutesy and matching. Which is good for them, but sometimes Anxiety wanted to draw a skull and crossbones or something.

"How can I help you?" He asked politely.

"Do you have time for a walk in?" One girl asked.

In response, Anxiety gestured to the empty room with a raised eyebrow. When the girls giggled nervously, he offered them a small smile and said, "So, what're we thinking for today?"

The girls show him a design on their phones, a bouquet of flowers with the phrase ' _Self care; self share_ ' on a little banner. Anxiety glanced up when one of the girls explained, "We want it to be able to last during fusion and Establishment. Can you do that?"

Anxiety nodded, "Yeah, but you'll have to get it in the same spot."

"That's fine." One girl smiled.

"We want it on our shoulder." The other agreed.

It was pretty common for close Sides to refer to themselves as one. It was just another thing Anxiety didn't like about fusion culture. Like, once you find your other pieces, you lose your individuality. That just didn't sound right to him. He didn't want to be the "other half". He wanted to be full, by himself.

Anxiety took the phone and walked back to his workbench. He carefully drew the piece out, making sure the letters were big enough and easy to read.

Once he was finished, he returned to the girls to show it to them. "What'd'ya think?"

They squealed and squeezed each other's hands. It could be assumed they liked it.

"Are we gonna color it?" He asked.

"No, the line art is fine." One girl said.

The other nodded, "Just some shading."

"Cool." Anxiety took the sketch back to copy it to his ink paper. Then he brought the girls back to his work station, and one of them volunteered to go first. He pressed the ink paper against her shoulder, carefully peeling it off to reveal the purple outline. The girl looked in the mirror and then showed it to her Side. They both liked the placement, so Anxiety started to set up his needle.

"Is it gonna hurt?" The girl going first asked.

Anxiety  _wanted_  to make a sarcastic remark. But you have to be nice to clients. He looked her in the eye and tried to sound reassuring. "Only for a while. Remember, pain is temporary; tattoos are forever. If you really want this tattoo, the pain will be worth it."

She took a deep breath, smiled, and nodded. Anxiety didn't tell her that a tattoo meant to last through fusion would hurt more. That would only freak her out.

Before long, he was going to work. The girls chatted with each other, holding hands when the pain got too bad. Anxiety zoned them out, focusing on following the lines.

"What happens if another one of our Sides has a different tattoo in the same place?" One girl asked.

Anxiety shrugged. "That's actually pretty rare. But I guess biology decides. Sometimes one of them disappears, sometimes they're smashed together. If it comes out funky, just come right back here and I'll fix it up."

The girls giggled at that, which made Anxiety share a small smile. He returned to the tattoo, starting on another flower. After a while, Anxiety asked, "So why this phrase?"

The shorter girl piped up, "Self care is important for a healthy fusion. And part of that is sharing who you are with your other Sides. You can't be fully Established until you're able to share  _all_  parts of yourself."

"Huh." Anxiety said quietly. He tried to concentrate on the tattoo, but his mind was stuck on the saying. Eventually, he asked, "What would you two do … if you didn't like one of your Sides?"

"What do you mean?" One asked.

Anxiety paused, turning the needle off for a moment. "Like… what if your next side was Slob or Greed or something equally bad. What if they're a trait you don't want to have? Would you still want them?"

The two girls stared at each other for a moment, apparently contemplating his question.

"Well, yeah." One girl finally said.

The other nodded, "I mean… it would suck. But that's what you gotta do to be Established."

Anxiety pursed his lips. "Right."

He didn't talk anymore. He didn't think he'd be able to, even if he wanted. Suddenly, his body was moving on automatic. He was watching more than participating. The tattoo came to life under his fingertips and all he could do was stare at the phrase.

Self care; self share.

Why would he want to share himself if the reaction was going to be "if I have to". He didn't want someone to feel  _forced_ to be with him. Is that how Missy and Remy are going to feel? Do they feel that way already? Since they know what he is? Did Missy tell Remy? Or did she keep it a secret?

Of course she told him. They're Sides. They fuse. Nothing is secret. So when Remy finds out about him, he's going to be all "No way, darling, he's not for us." Because  _why_ would they want  _him_?

He was going to be alone forever.

And he was going to drag Missy and Remy down with him. You can't be Established with only four Sides, so that means they'll either be forced to be with him (NO!) or they'll just be Sides forever.

Oh my God, what if they die from not fusing? It's been known to happen. The body pains get worse and worse and then you die. They're all going to die eventually. And it'll be his fault. Because he's  _bad_. Because no one will want him.

Anxiety blinked and the tattoo was done. He cleared his throat, pulled away, and muttered, "Next."

He didn't watch as the girls looked at the tattoo and switched spots. He wordlessly grabbed his gauz and disinfectant and gestured to the new tattoo. The girl took a picture first and then he patched it up, before getting ready to do the next one.

Rinse and repeat.

He kept all of his freak outs on the inside, where they're supposed to be, and finished the second tattoo as quick as he could (while still making it look good). They paid and left, Anxiety following behind them to lock the door and flip his 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. His hands were shaking too bad for another walk in. He tried to focus on his breathing, tried to calm down, but he couldn't.

_No one will ever love you._

_No one will ever fuse with you._

_You're worthless._

_Youre, you're, you're-_

He pulled out his phone. Phones are good, phones are safe, and fun. He scrolled through Tumblr, not seeing what was flying across his dash. Just scrolling, scrolling, scrolling, until he didn't feel like his heart was going to explode.

And then, once he looked up from the void and saw his reflection in the window, he broke down all over again. Remy was staring back at him, with a judgemental expression and a sneer. His lips were moving but Anxiety couldn't hear any sounds. He closed his eyes and tried to push out his swarming thoughts, but he glanced up at the glass again. This time it was Missy. Her eyes were full of pity, she shook her head and looked away. Anxiety could see tears streaming down her face.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

He was going to hurt them by not being with them. He was going to hurt them by being with them. There was no fucking way to win.

Frustration forced its way out of him with a shout as he swiped his arms across his desk, sending his art supplies flying.

Everything was silent.

He stood there, panting, as his trait was satisfied. His anxiety shriveled away to come back later, when he least wanted it. His knees buckled, and he caught himself on the desk.

"Jesus Christ, Virge." He muttered to himself, rubbing his hand over his sweaty forehead. Eventually, he was able to kneel down and pick up his pencils and markers.

One at a time. That's right. Simple tasks. One at a time…

Lastly, he grabbed his sketchbook, which was face down. When he picked it up, he saw a red marker under it, the lid nowhere to be found. Looking at the sketchbook, he sighed.

Anxiety sat down on the floor, frowning down at the drawing he unintentionally ruined. Across the drawing of Missy, there was now a dark red slash; where marker had smeared across paper.

Something about the sight made a sorrow fill his chest. He didn't mean to be bad…

Suddenly, the doctors voice rang in his ears, " _Your attacks are only going to get worse unless you take action. You need to fuse."_

He couldn't. They won't want him.

_"You need to-"_

No! He won't! He can't! It's too much!

His phone was in his hand. When'd it get there? He didn't know, but now he was staring down at his messaging app. He couldn't. He couldn't.

Three hours and a shower later and he was standing in front of a door. He glanced down at his phone to make sure he was in the right place. Then he double checked. Just to be sure.

He should really turn back now, before it's too late- aaaand the door is opening, fuck.

"Hello, darling!" One voice said.

"Oh, I thought that was you." Another said.

Anxiety's fists were clenched tight by his sides and he tried to make eye contact but ended up a little to the left. He nodded, then tried again, using words. "Uh, yeah."

He shuffled his feet, then muttered, "Hi, Remy. Hi, Missy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/)


	8. Patton

On Sundays, the daycare is open from six in the morning until one in the afternoon. This is mostly so people can go to church and not have a screaming baby interrupting conversations with the Lord. Gender Expression has told Morality their feelings on the subject multiple times. They'd rather have the weekends off. Morality always reminds them to think of other people's busy schedules (and that they don't work at all on Saturdays).

Besides, they usually have a small crowd on Sundays and get to close early. Such was the case today; the last of the kiddos had hopped off with their parents, chattering away about their time at daycare. After tidying up some messes and getting things ready for tomorrow morning, their work was done and it had just turned noon.

"What are you going to do with your afternoon?" Morality asked, turning off the lights behind them. He waited by Expression's side as they locked the door.

Expression shrugged, "I was actually planning on going over to the tattoo parlor."

Morality gasped excitedly, grabbing Expression's hands and squeezing them, "Are you gonna get the kitties today!?"

"No, Morie." Expression snorted, "I'm just going to set up an appointment today. Give 'em a few ideas and put down the deposit. Boring stuff."

Morality pouted. "Oh." Then, brightened up again immediately, "Can I come?"

"Sure." Expression put the daycare keys in their purse and started walking. Morality quickly followed after them. "I've never actually been to this guy before, but I've seen his artwork online and I figured, 'why not?'."

"Does it matter who does it?" Morality asked.

"Yeah, kinda." Expression stopped at the corner, thinking for a second. "You want someone with a good art style, one that matches what you want. You can't go up to a cartoonist and demand a realistic piece."

Morality held his hand out in front of Expression, looking both ways down the street, before allowing them to cross. "That makes sense."

"Plus, he's twenty bucks cheaper than the only other tattoo parlor in the area." Expression grinned, they winked at Morality, who only shook his head, smiling. They didn't get paid very well for their jobs, but that was fine by him. He, unlike Expression, didn't have very expensive hobbies.

"Where are you gonna get it?" Morality asked as they started down another block, passing a flower shop and a winery. He paused to smell some flowers that were sitting out in the sunlight.

Expression waited for him to catch back up, rolling up their sleeves so show a bare spot on their forearm, "I was thinking here, actually."

Morality inspected the naked spot. Yup. That's skin.

He grinned at them, "It'll look great!"

They finished their walk shortly after, arriving in front of a dark building. Expression frowned, peering inside the windows. "That's weird. The hours say they don't close until four…"

Patton moved to look through the glass. It was too dark for him to see anything, but he thought  _maybe_  he saw shadows shifting in the dark. Something moving inside there. "Well, they're definitely closed now."

"That sucks." Expression sighed. "Maybe they're sick."

"Maybe their wife just gave birth and their baby was just born today!" Morality said, finally moving away from the glass. Expression snorted again, shaking their head.

"Yeah, maybe, Morie." They tapped their chin, thinking out loud, "I'll have to stop by tomorrow after work. Want to come back again?"

"I can't tomorrow." Morality pouted, "I have to help my neighbor bake a cake for her granddaughter's birthday." He waved his friend off, "I don't really need to be here for the beginning parts, anyway. I just want to see the actual tattooering."

Expression shrugged, "If you say so." They gave the tattoo parlor one last glance, "So, what now? Wanna go home?"

Morality shook his head frantically, "No! We need to make this walk have  _purpose_! We need validation for walking all the way to a closed shop! We need ICE CREAM!"

"YEAH!" Expression cheered, throwing a fist in the air.

With that, Morality lead the charge towards the nearest ice cream shop. They giggled to each other the entire way, trying to decide which flavor they were in the mood for.

"Chocolate, every time." Morality argued.

"Nu-huh." Expression shook their head, their fiery hair whipping them in the face. "Pistachio is the way to go."

They stood in line and ordered their cones. Once they were up at the front counter, Morality patted their pockets, only to discover them empty. He frowned, checked each pocket, then checked them again. He turned to the cashier, genuinely upset, "I am so so sorry, I forgot my wallet!"

"What?" Expression asked, pausing in eating their own cone.

"I think I left it at the daycare!" Patton was worried now, mostly because the poor worker had done such a good job at making that cone. He hoped they felt appreciated.

Expression laughed at him, pulling some bills out of their purse. "Stop freaking out, I'll cover it."

They handed the money to the cashier, taking the cone in return. Then, they transferred the cone into Morality's hands with a grin. With the transaction over, they stepped out of the way for other customers. Morality called one last, "Sorry! Thank you!" to the cashier, who waved at him in response.

"Thank you so much, Express. You're a lifesaver." Morality said, taking a small lick from his chocolate cone. "I'll pay you back."

"It was, like, four bucks. You don't have to-"

"It wouldn't be  _right_." Morality interrupted, sounding almost frantic. "I'll pay you back right now. Do you mind heading back to the daycare? I know my wallet is there."

Expression stared at him for a second, before seeming to realize how important this was for Morality. They nodded and said, "Sure, my apartment is that way, anyway."

Mortality relaxed almost instantly, realizing he'd be able to fix his mistake and repay his friend. They walked in comfortable semi-silence, eating their ice cream in peace. Every once and awhile, Morality would point at an interesting cloud, or Expression would point out a pretty girl. Morality had finished about half his cone by the time they got to the daycare. They slowed down as they got closer, realizing someone was standing outside the front doors. The person was staring into the glass, not unlike they were doing an hour ago. It was weird, seeing someone hovering around his workplace.

Before he could do anything, Expression shouted, "HEY! What are you doing!?"

The person jumped, surprised, and turned around. It was a man; a Side. Morality got a good look at him, and felt his heart stop in his chest.

His ice cream slipped out of his hand, falling to the ground to become a snack for ants later. He felt his mouth go dry as he saw his surprise reflected on the other man's face. On his face.

"Uh-" The guy said, glancing back and forth between Expression and Morality. "I was just-"

Morality interrupted him, speeding up to the other man, grabbing his hand, and shaking it vigorously. "HI I'M PATTON!"

"Holy shit." Expression said, stepping up to look at them. "He looks like you."  
"My Side is Morality and I like puppies and I work here and I love you!" Patton said in an excited rush, still shaking the other man's hand. Then, just because he really wanted to, Patton engulfed the other man in a hug. He squeezed his Side tightly and then pulled back, grinning up at him.

He looked almost entirely identical to Patton, except he didn't need glasses. Upon closer inspection, one of his eyes was a different color than the other. While his left eye was a deep brown, like Patton's, his right eye was a bright golden amber. The only other difference between the two was that Patton's hair was darker, while as the other man had a more blond-ish color. Although, his blond-ish hair was hidden under a black fedora, so who knew it's full color.

"What's your name?" Patton asked, taking the other man's hands again. His nails were painted black and yellow. How cute!

"Uh-" The other Side said, then, cleared his throat, and tried again. "You can call me De-"

"Dee?" Patton asked.

The man pulled a hand away to clear his throat once more. His cheeks had darkened slightly, and Patton wanted to cuddle the other man and make him feel better. He took a deep breath, and when he looked back at Patton, he appeared less  _dear-in-the-headlights_.

"You can call me Destiny." Destiny smiled, pulling Patton's hand up to press a small kiss to his knuckles. Now Patton was the one with rosy cheeks. He let out a giggle, unsure of what to say.

"Oh! It's, um, it's very nice to meet you Destiny."

Expression pushed in between the two of them, glaring at Destiny, "Why were you looking into the daycare? Did you want to see some kids? Are you a pervert?"

"Heavens, no!" Destiny said, sounding shocked. He placed a hand on his chest, turning to say to Patton, "I was only hoping to catch a glimpse of you."  
"Me?" Patton whispered, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He couldn't take his eyes off the other man.  _Destiny_. How poetic.

"So you're a stalker." Expression said, crossing their arms. Patton couldn't imagine why Expression was being so mean to his Side, but they were usually right about these things. Patton looked worriedly back at Destiny, hoping it wasn't true.

Destiny shook his head again, calmly, "Actually,  _little girl_ , I only just saw -" He smiled pleasantly at him, "Patton, was it? - a few days ago. Suspecting that he was my Side, I wanted to learn more about him. I didn't know anything except that he worked here,  _so_  I was looking for a phone number or work hours, where I could stop by to …  _introduce_ myself."

Patton felt his stomach dip, like he was at the top of a roller coaster. He was looking for  _Patton_. No one ever looked for him. He was the one who went out, trying to find his soulmates. But this beautiful man cared so much that he was trying to get in contact with Patton. He felt like he was one step closer to being Established already. Smiling, Patton informed him, "You found me."

"That I did." Destiny said, offering up the smallest, most beautiful smile Patton had ever seen.

Expression cleared their throat and said, "Mori, aren't you  _forgetting_ something?"

Patton had absolutely no idea what he had forgotten. Which made sense to him. If he remembered what it was, he wouldn't have forgotten it. Then, he realized what it must be, "OH! I should give you my phone number!"

"That you should." Destiny said, smirking at a frustrated Expression. He handed Patton his phone, and he dutifully punched in his numbers. He saved his name with a few emoji hearts, picking his favorite colors. He knew Destiny wouldn't mind.

"No!" Expression groaned, "I meant  _the wallet!_ "

When he handed the phone back, Patton realized why they even came back to the daycare in the first place. "Oh yeah! We should do that, huh?"

"Well, I think I should take my leave." Destiny said, slipping his phone back in his pocket. He took Patton's hand again, gently rubbing little circles with his thumb onto the back of his hand. "It  _truly_  has been a pleasure."

He pressed another kiss to Patton's knuckles, causing Patton's face to flush once more. Destiny smirked and said, " _Morality_. Small fire child."

Then, he turned around the corner and disappeared out of sight. Patton pulled his hand to his chest, his other hand repeating the thumb thing on himself. He kept staring at the spot where he stood. He can barely believe it.

He met his other Side.

And he was so nice!

Expression opened the door once more, speeding inside to grab Patton's wallet, which was sitting on the table, in clear view. They shoved it back into Patton's hands, snapping him out of his thoughts.  
"I have a bad feeling about that guy." Expression grumbled.

Patton was going to respond, but got distracted by his phone vibrating. He looked down and saw that he had a new message from an unknown number.

_Dinner tomorrow? ;)_

Patton rushed to respond with a big ol' heck yes! He wanted to have dinner with Destiny right  _now_! He couldn't wait to have Destiny by his side forever. He couldn't wait to become Established with him.

And suddenly, he felt a little more whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!  
> Come chill with me on [tumblr](https://esompthinfics.tumblr.com/)


End file.
